


love alphabetical

by schwanenkoenigin



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 10:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14952917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwanenkoenigin/pseuds/schwanenkoenigin
Summary: there are a lot of post-its. (pssst...they're all for lauren.)





	love alphabetical

**Author's Note:**

> hiii what's up i know it's been ages and i apologize for that but here's a cute little fic i wrote last night. enjoy!!

It’s a pretty normal day, considering that it’s Lauren’s birthday and that she used to love celebrating this particular event out and about—namely in random clubs—especially during her time in the band. But, like, everything is like it’s supposed to be now that she’s settled down: her girlfriend, Camila, is at work (at least that’s what she’s made her believe but shhh), while she herself is at home—she has managed to get a few days off, thank God—and, fortunately enough, everything’s calm. There’s nothing that Lauren hates more than interruptions on days that she wants to spend doing nothing.

And nothing does happen. At least not at first: she gets up at ten—maybe quarter or half past—spends the next two or three hours lying on the old couch in front of the TV. See, the now 27 year old _loves_ reality TV. (Sue her.) It’s the usual _Keeping up with the Kardashians_ reruns. As ridiculous and pathetic as the show was, it had its funny moments. And those are what Lauren still, to this day, watches it for.

In the middle of a joke brought to the audience by whoever the _hell_ is even talking—she’s fairly certain their name starts with a K, though—the bell rings.

Lauren jumps to her feet, heart racing. She is not expecting anyone. People _know_ that today is her birthday, and they _know_ she does not like personal visits. She’s made it clear, more than once, that all she wants is cards. Yet here people are– ringing the bell.

After quickly turning off the television, Lauren walks towards the intercom and stops once she’s in hearing and listening range. “What is it?” she asks, now calm but _very_ annoyed.

No answer.

Of course. She huffs and rolls her eyes at what’s probably just some neighbor who thought it’d be a good idea to ruin her afternoon. She’s about to walk back to the couch when realizes that there’s a tiny post-it stuck to the wall, right next to the light switch. Lauren knits her brows. Who would even do such a thing?

Okay, well, she doesn’t actually have to wonder, as there aren’t a lot of people who can enter her flat. Only Camila, really, so, like–

She takes the mini-sheet off of the wall. It is most _definitely_ Camila’s handwriting. Lauren’s features instantly soften, and she starts smiling a little.

“ ** _A_** _mazing_.

 **_B_** _eautiful_ ,” is all that the paper reads. That and _bathroom_ _drawer_ in small lettersat the bottom of it. Lauren doesn’t waste a single second before making her way to their bathroom. They have more than one drawer, but she finds the correct one fairly easily. (Pink is a very distinctive color.)

“ ** _C_** _ute as hell._

**_D_** _elicious._

**_E_** _ager to please_ ,” is what the post-it stuck to the white piece of furniture says. Lauren laughs to herself. Would Camila really go through the entire alphabet for her? It seems so.

 _Crazy. Smart. Incredibly attractive. Perfect_. These are the words that she’d describe Camila with. In her mind. She puts on a big fat grin as she reads _kitchen_.

And into the kitchen she walks. Only to find– nothing. There’s nothing stuck to the fridge, nothing on the table, nothing in the– ah yes. Of course. The fruit basket. Lauren shakes her head. Only _Camila_ could have such an idea.

“ ** _F_** _unny._

**_G_** _enerous._

**_H_** _ot as hell._

**_I_** _ntelligent_.”

Lauren chuckles. Actually chuckles out loud. Because this is so cute, and so funny, that she can’t help but _chuckle_. It’s something that people don’t even _do_ , according to the internet, but, hey, her girlfriend is being the sweetest thing in the world, so why would she not be allowed to _chuckle_?

Plus– it’s her birthday, so, yeah, she has _all_ the right in the world to chuckle.

(Take that, internet.)

She’s still in the middle of calming down from all the _chuckling_ —it’s sort of hurting her belly already—when she reads the next tip at the bottom of the post-it.

_Your favorite handbag._

And, again, Lauren cannot help but laugh. She doesn’t care if it hurts. Because– her favorite _handbag_? She has, like, ten thousands of those. Only a true friend, no, a true _girlfriend_ would know about them. So she’s really, really excited to see if Camila has _actually_ stuck her post-it to the correct bag.

As it turns out, she _has_. It’s a surprise, but at the same time– it’s not. Still– Lauren is so _happy_ once she sees the slightly bigger pink post-it stuck to the beige bag that she wants to cry. She actually wants to cry. For an hour. Or two. How could _anyone_ know that this admittedly ugly ass purse is her personal favorite?

She looks at what the post-it actually says, then.

And she laughs out loud. Again. Head thrown back and all.

“ ** _J_** _ust so soft (but claims that she isn't.)_

**_K_** _ing of my vagina._

**_L_** _oveable._

**_M_** _ine._

**_N_** _ever judges me_.”

“King of my vagina?” she breathes out—just barely—and bites her lip, “I can’t believe she’d actually write that down.” Lauren lets out another breathy chuckle. “I love her so much.” She shakes her head, half in disbelief and half in amusement.

The post-it gives her another location. _Bedroom. Pillow_. It’s easy, nothing to misunderstand. So Lauren follows the instruction into the bedroom. She picks up the pink piece of paper. (Why had she not seen this earlier?)

“ ** _O_** _h so attractive._

**_P_** _retty fucking dope._

**_Q_** _ueen of my heart._

**_R_** _eally damn clever._

**_S_** _exy as fuck._

**_T_** _otally adorable_.”

Lauren swallows thickly. She’s known that Camila loves her for quite a while, but… that the girl is just as _in love_ with her as _she_ is in love with _her_? She didn’t think it was possible.

And– God, that reference to one of their own songs? Lauren bites her lip. Her old bandmate is the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened to her, and she’d be damned if she let the public fuck anything up that’s between them.

She needs to get to Camila. To talk to her. Right away. So she checks the post-it for any more info.

 _The park_ , it reads in the tiniest font Lauren has ever seen.

But she immediately grabs her jacket and phone. Because she cannot wait any longer. And she cannot make Camila wait anymore, either. It wouldn't be fair. So she grabs her stuff, walks out of the door. Out of the apartment complex. Down the street. To the park.

To _their_ spot. Where they always used to talk about _weird_ exes.

Where, today, on her birthday, they’re going to talk about _them_. Lauren hopes so, at least. _God_ , she thinks, _it would be the best birthday present ever_.

When she gets there, Camila is looking down at the ground.

“Hey,” she greets nonetheless.

“Hi,” the girl says back. It’s shy, and Lauren can’t remember the last time she’s seen her like this, but, God, if it’s not the most adorable thing she’s ever seen.

“So…” Lauren starts. What is she going to say, anyway? She bites her lip, thinking. Damn, it’s like they’ve never talked before. “I didn’t know you weren’t at work,” she says after a while. Good, small talk. Always great.

“That was the plan,” her girlfriend replies. She looks up, right into her eyes, and Lauren swallows. _Beautiful. So beautiful._ “Here,” Camila interrupts her thoughts, “this is for you.”

In her hand is the last post-it.

For a moment, Lauren looks at the ground, considering her options. Should she take it? Should she really look at the last part of Camila’s soul? Should she take this piece of paper, unfold it, and read just what Camila truly feels? What if it is not what she wants, expects it to be? Then again– “Lauren? Are– are you there?”

Lauren shakes her head at the words. Looks up, too, for a second. “Yeah– yes, of course I am.” She chuckles in a forced manner, making it sound like she isn’t currently contemplating her whole life. “Yeah,” she repeats, and finally grabs the last piece of paper. _You’re already dating her, what can go wrong?_ And doesunfold it. Slowly, unimaginably so. She knows, of course, maybe, hopefully, probably, what she is about to read but, if it really _isn’t_ , she hopes that unfolding the post-it _slowly_ helps.

...okay, so, it does go well. So well that she stands there, dumbstruck, reading the post-it over and over again.

“ ** _U_** _ndeniably charming._

**_V_** _ery very talented._

**_W_** _ell... I guess I’m in love with you… secret’s out..._

**_x_** _oxo_

**_Y_** _ou're the one for me._

_... **z** o jot that down_.”

 _Minutes_ pass before Lauren reacts. At all. Before she says, “I’m in love with you, too.” Before she walks towards the waiting girl; before she finally, finally embraces her, presses her lips to Camila’s, and, without a doubt, makes the two of them the happiest women in the world.

They spend half an hour like this, in each other’s arms, breathing in each other’s scent,  _feeling_ each other. However, Camila breaks the hug, then, and quietly laughs, “I can’t believe that’s what it took for you to say it back.”

Turning beet red, Lauren says, “Oh, shut up.” She’s pulled into another hug, which is followed by a dozen more kisses. Kisses that make her feel safe, like nothing can ever go wrong again. Kisses that are so _perfect_ that she can’t imagine ever kissing anyone else again. Kisses that remind her that, yeah, this right here is the woman she wants to spend the rest of her life with. She wants her whole life to be about making Camila happy. Just like she needs it to be Camila to make _her_ happy.

(God, she’s so lucky to have been put into the same band as her all those years ago.)

They’re still in the middle of the park, but it feels like they’re in their own little world. A world that nobody can destroy, ever. A world that’s for them, only for them. A world that they’re not even pulled out of when Camila whispers her next words.

“Happy birthday, Lo.”

Lauren smiles a smile bigger than all the worries and regrets that Camila has made her overcome in the past years.

* * *

“When did you even have the time to write all that stuff?”

“A magician never reveals their secrets.”

**Author's Note:**

> again, i'm honestly so sorry for not writing in such a long time. i've just been feeling pretty suicidal these past few weeks and literally couldn't do anything. 
> 
> the only good thing was that i got to see my gf who's the most amazing person ever and actually inspired this entire fic in the first place (i'm gay for her and wanted her to know that sue me) and uhhhh yeah, there was that lol
> 
> i hope that i can finally start getting back into writing now but i obviously can't promise anything. i love you all xx


End file.
